To be with Wendy
by rockemo
Summary: Ever since Wendy left, Neverland has never stopped raining. Until the day Peter Pan decides to follow Wendy, to grow up, and win her heart. But without Peter, Neverland has turned into an icy place. So the decision rests with Peter, to go back to Neverland or to stay with Wendy.
1. Introduction

It was raining, like everyday since Wendy left. Peter Pan was lying on his wooden bed, thinking of her. The only thing that has been on his mind ever since they parted ways. He's been gloomy and so has Neverland.

Neverland has never seen a rainbow since Wendy went back to London. On some days, the sea would overflow and flood the land. Peter didn't mind it. He didn't care about anything else except for the fact that Wendy was gone and soon he would be forgotten by her. She'd grow up and do what normal grown-ups do.

Peter became so miserable that he told Tinkerbell to go and be with the other pixies. Peter was so miserable that he never left the tree house. He never flew to see anyone. Wendy took the fun out of everything.

The boy sighed and tears formed at the side of his closed eyes. It was pointless to be a boy forever when you have met Wendy. Wendy and her blonde hair, Wendy and her blue eyes, Wendy...and her kiss.

"Stop haunting me!" Peter yelled at the wall. He jerked upright and panted like he ran a marathon. He bent his knees close to his chest and hugged it. "I don't want to grow up," the boy whispered as he rubbed his forehead to his knees. He repeatedly murmured no.

Then he tried a different approach. He thought of Wendy...and him. Together. In London. In Neverland. His body left the bed and without even thinking about it, he was flying. He let go of his knees and smiled.

The sun was rising up for the first time in a long time and Peter flew towards it. Towards London. Towards Wendy.


	2. One

One - London

Peter reached London by evening.

He peered through the window where he last found Wendy only to see her two brothers and the Lost Boys sleeping in the nursery. He furrowed his brows and wondered where could she be sleeping or if she even lives in the same house.

The window beside him slid open and Peter flew above it. A girl with blonde hair stuck her head out, looking for something. Peter crept directly above her and peered at the exact moment the girl decided to look up.

"Wendy?"

"Peter!"

He would've jumped on the roof and immediately announced his greatness of finding her. He would've galloped with joy in her room with their reunion but instead...

Peter held the reins of the roof and jumped inside Wendy's room. He smiled and calmly said, "Oh, the cleverness of me."

Wendy looked at him with curiousity. She wondered why something seemed off with Peter. He seemed to be lifeless and the adventure in him seemed to be gone. That's when tears streamed down the sides of his face. He hugged Wendy and whispered in her ear,"I...I missed you, Wendy."

Wendy patted Peter's back. She was as glad as he was to be reunited. Peter was glad that Wendy had not forgotten him like his parents. He took a step back and it was Wendy who spoke first.

"It's good to see you, Peter."

Peter didn't know what to reply. There was such formality in the air. There was a lot of things to say but he didn't know how to word them out. He was a kid faced with a lady. He was a boy clothed in leaves and vines in front of a woman who was preparing for marriage. Peter looked at the floor and he could feel his energy draining out of him.

"Are you alright?" Wendy asked.

Peter snapped out of his reverie and replied, "Oh yes, of course, of course. I'm just uh-"

Mrs. Darling was going to her room when she heard life in Wendy's room. She crept close to the door and neared her ear to the door. A boy was in Wendy's room and Mrs. Darling knew that it was not just any boy. It was Peter Pan. She pushed the door open. Just in time, to save Peter for his silence.

Mrs. Darling smiled at him and said, "You must be Peter!"

Wendy was filled with excitement and gladly made introductions. She quickly forgot that Peter was not himself. He was not the happy boy she had first met. Sadness filled his eyes and also fear, uncertainty.

"Wendy, I think Peter must be tired from his trip. Perhaps he could stay in the guest room." Mrs. Darling said.

"Oh yes, I suppose, after all that flying." Wendy turned to Peter and filled with hope she asked, "Will you still be here tomorrow?"

"Of course!" Peter replied. The day after, and the day after that, he thought.

"Well, come along now." Mrs. Darling ushered Peter to follow her. "Wendy, you still have school tomorrow," She reminded her daughter and shut the door.

Mrs. Darling led Peter to the guest room and acquainted him with the room. She gave him John's sleeping clothes and sat at the edge of the bed.

"Thank you...for all of this." Peter said.

"It's not everyday that I see a young boy filled with sadness."

Peter remained silent. He realized that he could not say anything to express his emotions. Why exactly was he sad? He could not remember. He strolled the room and took everything in. The brown walls, the wooden floor, and he suddenly felt far away from home yet, near at the same time.

"Do you...want to go back to Neverland?" Mrs. Darling asked to break the silence. She was trying to be friendly and to make the boy at ease with her home but perhaps that was the wrong question.

Peter looked out the window and saw the second star to the right glittering on the vast darkness covering London. Neverland. He touched the window's glass and felt intense emotion. He curled his fingers away and asked, "Is there a way to cover...this?"

* * *

George Darling was an uptight English gentleman. So you could say Peter's arrival at that exact day and time was perfect.

It would've caused quite a ruckus had Mr. Darling gone home earlier into the night. There was an event that night and he decided not to bring Mrs. Darling along after what happened with the kids the first time he wanted to make small talk with the bank manager.

The night was nearing midnight and it was time for him to head home.

He went straight upstairs silently and got ready for bed. His wife was snugly asleep or so he thought. As soon as his back touched the mattress Mrs. Darling asked him.

"What would you do if I tell you that someone was staying in the guest room?"

Mr. Darling made a little noise at his surprise which made Mrs. Darling laugh. "Oh George," she teased.

"You had me surprised, you know me." he chuckled. "Might I ask who's staying?"

"Peter Pan." Mrs. Darling replied.

Mr. Darling furrowed his brows. "The boy from your stories? Well, that's absurd, Mary."

"I wouldn't call it absurd when you've seen the boy in flesh, George."

Perhaps she's making this up or she's so sleepy that she's seeing things, Mr. Darling thought. "Perhaps this can wait until morning." He yawned.

"Of course but don't tell me I didn't warn you."

* * *

The house is very lively in the morning. Everyone's rushing to go to places, school and work. Mr. Darling and the kids left the house long before Peter woke up. The sun was well-covered by the blinds Mrs. Darling put the night before. It was until a sliver of light crept through Peter's room that he realized it was morning. He was so used to Tink's wake-up pulling and pushing or the rooster's early morning sound. In London, none of those were present. No roosters, no pixies but perhaps it was what Peter needed.

He sat on the bed and scratched his eyes.

Mrs. Darling appeared on the guest room's doorway and greeted, "Good morning, Peter."

Peter stretched his arms and yawned. "Where's everyone?" he asked. The house was silent. You could've heard a pin drop.

"School...or work. There's breakfast downstairs." Mrs. Darling offered.

Peter approached Mrs. Darling and together they went to the kitchen. They ate pancakes with maple syrup. Mrs. Darling watched Peter as he devoured the food. His hunger and exhaustion from yesterday's travel showed. If George Darling ought to meet Peter, he should at least be more...English.

It took a while for Peter to notice that Wendy's mother what looking at him. She was obviously stifling a giggle. He slowed his chewing and swallowed.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing. It's just really...I dunno...I was just imagining George." Mrs. Darling chuckled. "My...husband. Wendy's father."

"Oh." Peter nods. It didn't occur to him that in London society, it was always the father who had a say in everything. It was his acceptance that he needed the most and perhaps this may prove to be a challenge to him.

"You may meet him tonight." Mrs. Darling said.

Peter was still hungry but he thought that maybe he was being...weird. He nods and takes another bite from the pancake but Mrs. Darling holds his hand.

"I want him to accept you so, you need to go by English rules...for a while that is." Mrs. Darling explains. Peter is confused about what she means but then again, he is from Neverland and he'll never know what it feels like to be an English person.

Mrs. Darling took the serving fork, took one pancake from the pile and placed it on her plate. She smiled at Peter and he did the same. She cut the whole into small, pieces and he did the same. They both took small bites, put the fork and knife together, cleaned the wares and so on.

That's how they spent the day.


	3. Two

Two – George Darling

It was a laid back day at the bank. The after Christmas work rush has ended. George Darling can now focus on other things such as Wendy's future. She was after all the only daughter so, it was rightful for George to look for a husband befitting his daughter.

The bank manager was looking quite free in the center of the hall. George decided that perhaps today was a good time to make small talk. He ordered his feet to walk towards the manager while rehearsing his lines. What exactly would he say? The weather looks fine today. That's all he could think of and by the time he reached the bank manager there was no turning back.

"He-hello, sir. Such f-f-fine weather today, don't you say?" George stuttered.

"Indeed!" the bank manager replied. "Say, George, you have a daughter, is that right"

"Why, yes sir!" George didn't expect that the bank manager would make it so easy for him.

"May I invite you for a cup of tea this weekend?"

"Of course sir! Of course"

Surely, it slipped Mr. Darling's mind that a boy was sleeping in the guest room.

* * *

George Darling was an uptight English gentleman. He followed conventions, rules of English society. It would be such a disgrace if his daughter were to marry a lad from a place that is thought of as fiction.

It was quite some time before the sun would begin to set and George hurried home seeing that there is no reason for him to stay at the bank. The house was already filled with the children upon his entrance. Everyone was playing except for one boy sitting on the sofa chair. He looked the same age as his children but he was very much not one of them. He was a new face to the Darling household.

"George! I didn't expect you'd be here this early," Mrs. Darling greeted. She kissed Mr. Darling on the cheek.

"Who's that boy there?" he asked. He was actually assuming that, that boy was a friend of one of his children.

"Peter Pan, I told you about him last night." Mrs. Darling explained and went back to the kitchen.

"The boy who flies?" He asked but the boy seemed so civilized. The boy named Peter Pan was just sitting and watching the other boys play. "The boy from Wendy's tales."

"He is not just a figment of Wendy's imagination." She argued. Mr. Darling followed Mrs. Darling to the kitchen.

"Well, Mary, dear, the bank manager invited me to tea this weekend," Mr. Darling announced to his wife. However, the expression on her face was the exact opposite of what he expected. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing at all George. Just explain it to Wendy later."

* * *

Wendy headed downstairs just in time for dinner. She still hasn't talked to Peter for the whole day since she didn't want her father getting any ideas. It wasn't ideal to surprise her father about a fictional boy who has come to reality.

The long table was already filled and the only empty space was in-front of Peter. They smiled at each other, shyly. He was dressed beautifully as any other English boy would. Wendy liked the way Peter was staring at her with his green eyes.

Dinner was always lively at the Darling house. Nine children was enough to fill the house which delightful childish noise. Peter observed their actions just like what Mrs. Darling taught him. He specifically watched Mr. Darling's actions. He moved with such refined actions. It was as if he went straight to manhood.

"Wendy..."Mr. Darling started. The table went silent. Peter paid attention, too.

"Yes, Father," Wendy replied.

"The bank manager invited you and I to tea this weekend."

The other children went into a ruckus of can I come, father. Please. Until Mr. Darling told everyone to stop.

"It's just for me and Wendy."

Wendy looked at Peter and she knew. It was written all over his face. Mrs. Darling was also staring at Peter and just merely closed her eyes tightly. Of all the times he could've told Wendy. Why must it be during dinner. She thought.

Peter wanted to leave the table but he didn't want Mr. Darling to think that he was rude or childish. What to do. Peter could feel tears stinging his eyes. He stared at his plate and continued to eat in small bites. As soon as dinner ended, he helped Wendy and Mrs. Darling clear the dishes even though it wasn't an English custom. He didn't believe that women should be the one doing all the tasky stuff. He went straight to his room and supposedly shut it behind him but no sound resonated.

Apparently, Wendy caught the door and slipped inside the room.

"Don't talk to me." Peter pleaded. "Please... leave me alone" he whispered.

"But Peter...we haven't talked..."

"Leave me alone!" he yelled and he bolted out the house. He ran and ran until he forgot about his tears. He ran until he felt better. He ran until he reached an alleyway and sat down. Just because you forget doesn't mean the feelings are forgotten too. He still felt like a caving was clawing it's way out of him.

* * *

"George, there were plenty of ways for you to tell it to Wendy," Mrs. Darling complained. This was going to be a long evening argument. Mrs. Darling knew exactly why Mr. Darling said it during dinner but she wanted to hear it come from him. "Just why did you say it during dinner."

"It's n-not like I had a choice."

"Or perhaps you did," Mrs. Darling mused. "Come on now, George"

"It's that boy." He sighed. "How could you simply accept him like that. He's a figment of her imagination"

"You saw the boy. He's real."

"He's not from here! That's my point. What will the neighbors say?"

"You always think about the neighbors. What about Wendy?" Mrs. Darling reminded him. Wendy who was so close to being lost after their fight about growing up. Wendy who was still a child yet, enough to know what she wants.

"This is what's best for her."

"What's best for her or what's best for you?"

The door to the guest room hit the wall. Footsteps shuffled down the stairs and the main door opened. Mr. and Mrs. Darling peered at the window and saw a boy running out the streets. They looked at each other. Perhaps while they were arguing, Wendy and Peter were arguing too.

Mr. and Mrs. Darling rush out the door. Another person also went out of the house which must've been Wendy.

The night was darkening with each passing moment. Hopefully, it'd stop snowing for a while since everyone was wearing night clothes.


	4. Three

Three – Thomas Beaufort

At the end of the street, Wendy took a left and continuously ran. If someone were to peer out the window, they would wonder whether there was a fire somewhere nearby at the speed the Darlings were running. Mr. and Mrs. Darling were lagging behind and soon, they would lose sight of Wendy.

Wendy stopped under a lamp post. She was catching her breathe but it doesn't seem to be fast enough. Truth be told, she had no idea where Peter went. Her hands were on her knees, such exhaustion.

"Excuse me..." Wendy looked at the direction where the voice came from. A boy's silhouette was leaning against the wall of some building.

"Have you seen a boy running around here?" Wendy asked in a fast slur of words. "He's a little bit taller than me with blonde hair and blue eyes."

"Yeah, he went into the alleyway there. You can hear him sniffling, actually, if you're silent enough." the boy replied.

Truly, the sniffling sound can be heard in the silence of the night. Wendy was too worried about Peter to actually hear him.

"Thank you." Wendy said.

"'course." the boy replied.

Wendy went in the direction of the sniffling. Peter was sitting in middle of the alleyway. His knees were folded to his chest and his head was laying in his crossed arms. It was obvious that he was crying. Wendy watched as Peter cried. She knew it was best not to interrupt him.

I'm too late, Peter thought. Wendy was going to meet a boy on the weekend whenever that meant. She'll like the boy she's going to meet because he's an English gentleman. His eyes felt tired from crying and he just wanted to sleep. His body lied down on the ground on its own and his eyes closed almost instantly.

* * *

The sun was staring directly at Peter. He fell asleep on the streets which explains the murmuring around him. His eyelids fluttered and there were a lot of boys staring at him and one girl. He used his arm to sit his body up and then he realized he was actually at home—at Wendy's house.

"How did I get here?" Peter asked.

The house was silent again. Lifeless until Wendy appeared by the doorway. She sat on the edge of Peter's bed.

"Why did you have to run?" Wendy asked.

"Does it matter?" Peter retorted. He sneezed. He felt ill. It was never a good idea to lie on the ground during winter. He lied down again and pulled the duvet all the way to his neck. His body felt warm.

"Of course it does. This...is not Neverland. Things could've happened. You could've been caught by the police."

"It doesn't."

"Peter...please." Wendy pleaded. "Act...just act mature until father..."

Footsteps stopped just behind Wendy. It was Mr. Darling. He cleared his throat and Wendy stood up.

"After much debate with your mother," he said and muttered, "last night." He continued, "you don't have to go to tea this weekend, if you don't want to."

"Can't we bring Peter along?" Wendy asked.

Peter hid his alarm at Wendy's request.

"I'll...er... have to ask the bank manager." Mr. Darling replied. He hesitated at Wendy's request. He thought of whether to really ask the bank manager regarding her request or just dismiss it.

"I'll come along, if he comes." Wendy said and returned to her position by Peter's side.

* * *

Weekend came by. Mr. Darling did ask the bank manager if Wendy could bring her friend. The manager allowed it and so, they were headed to the bank manager's household. It was located in the other side of middle-class London.

Peter, Wendy and Mr. Darling stepped out the automobile and were greeted by the bank manager's wife.

"Hello, Mr. Darling. May I take your coat?" she offered.

"Yes, please." He replied and handed it to her. He was masking his nervousness again. He didn't want his daughter to notice the quiver in his voice.

"You must be Wendy." she said. "I'm Mrs. Beaufort."

"Hello, pleased to meet you." They shook hands.

"And you are...?" Mrs. Beaufort asked the blonde-haired boy behind Wendy.

"I'm Peter...Pan" he said. His American accent told Mrs. Beaufort that he wasn't one of the Darlings or perhaps he was one of the kids Mr. Darling adopted.

"Pleased to meet you." They shook hands and inside they went. They sat on the living room's leather couch. Mr. Beaufort was already seated when they arrived.

"Good morning, Mr. Beaufort." Mr. Darling greeted. "Such a lovely house."

"Why, thank you." He replied. "I'm pretty su-"

There was quite a noise upstairs like a horse's footfalls on wooden floor. Someone slid down the stairs and jumped out the end, the Beaufort's son.

"Am I late? I must be." The boy greeted. He strided to his father's side with such purpose. Mr. Beaufort passed a hand on his face out of annoyance perhaps. Mr. Beaufort's son looked at Wendy and smiled mischievously. He held out a hand and said, "I'm Thomas. Thomas Beaufort. It's spelled as b-e-a-u-f-o-r-t and pronounced as bowfort."

"Thomas, do sit down." His father said. It was written in his voice that he was irritated at his son's actions.

"Who're you?" Thomas looked at Peter. "Are you the boyfriend or something?"

"Thomas!" Mrs. Beaufort yelled from the other room.

"What? I was just asking."

Peter turned red because he didn't know what to say. Mrs. Darling told him that he should just let Mr. Darling do the talking. He should say that he's just Wendy's friend right?

"Let me guess, you haven't talked about it yet." Thomas filled in for him. He smirked and leaned his back on the chair's support.

"You were the guy the other night, weren't you? At Ale." Wendy interrupted. She needed to make him stop badgering Peter with his accusations. True enough, they haven't decided about it. Wendy surprised herself that she was even thinking that she and Peter weren't talking about their relationship. If there even was one.

Mr. Beaufort eyed Thomas and Thomas looked at Wendy. He pursed his lips. He wasn't supposed to be there.

Thomas was being childish. Peter could tell that Thomas' parents wanted him to be an English gentleman but he seemed to be far from it. He was more irrational than Peter was. His hair wasn't even kept well.

"What's your name, bloke?" Thomas asked.

"Peter."

* * *

The tea party lasted about 4 hours. Wendy thought that it was one of the most horrible four hours of her life but Peter thought it was quite...good. Finally, someone in England who was not uptight or trying hard to fit in with everyone else. Peter wanted to be friends with Thomas and it seemed that Thomas wanted to be friends with him, too. He stopped badgering Peter after asking for his name.

"That went pretty..."Mr. Darling spoke as while the automobile was moving.

"Horrid" Wendy said. "Thomas had atrocious manners"

Peter sighed. Even though he liked Thomas it seemed that his opinion wouldn't matter. He looked up the sunny sky and wondered how Neverland was faring. He thought of other things to drown out Wendy and Mr. Darling's conversation.

If tea and talking about boring things meant growing up, Peter would never like to grow up at all.


	5. Four

Four – Neverland

The sun rose above London, warm enough to make the snow melt by an inch. It was noon, the supposedly hottest time of the day and it was time for Wendy to go home.

"Hey, Wendy!"

Thomas had been waiting for her by the gate. He was leaning against the stone wall as usual and when Wendy didn't acknowledge him, he tried to catch up with her big, hurried strides in an attempt to stay away from him. It was to his success that he was able to match her pace and chat until they reacher the Darling residence.

"What is it that you want?" Wendy protested.

"This..." He held a letter between them. "it's for Peter."

Wendy looked him in the eye and saw the smirk on his face or was that his version of a friendly smile.

"Make sure it gets to him, a'ight? Sure do hope the bloke could read." Thomas turned around and walked away towards his home perhaps.

Wendy took a look at the letter, every which way and went inside.

The boys were huddled around the sofa chair in a semi-circle around Peter. They were talking about...

"Neverland," Peter exclaimed. "is a place where there are pirates, mermaids, and pixies." He kept the boys hanging and said, "But the best of all, it's a place where kids never grow up."

"That's rubbish" John Darling said. "There is no such thing as-"

Peter clamped John's mouth and said, "Don't say that. Every time someone says there are no such thing as fairies, a fairy drops dead."

The Lost Boys gasped. Tootles cried, "That's so horrible"

Wendy realized that nobody except her remembers Neverland.

"That's just a fairy tale." The twins said.

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to show you." Peter's body left the chair. The boys were awed as Peter circled the room once, twice and landed back on his feet just in time for mother to call out that lunch was ready. The boys hurried over to the dining room chorusing lunch, lunch, lunch and had completely forgotten about Peter's flying stunt.

"What were you talking about?" Wendy asked Peter.

Peter leaned his mouth to Wendy's ear and whispered, "Neverland"

"Would you mind...telling me that story?" she asked.

Peter stepped away from Wendy and said, "Oh, I think that story would be better if you told it." He walked to the the long table. Wendy followed.

* * *

Wendy gave the letter to Peter after lunch. He took it up to his room to read it alone.

 _Dear Peter,_

 _How are you doing? Hope you're having a grand time with Wendy. Say, do you mind if we have another cup of tea? I'll be waiting outside your house._

 _Thomas_

Peter pulled the curtain a little bit to the right to see if Thomas was already outside but he wasn't. Of course, t'was a joke, Peter thought. He's such a child. Peter checked the letter again when something fell out of the envelope.

"What's this?" Peter knelt and rubbed his fingers on...pixie dust.

It was impossible to think that Thomas Beaufort had pixie dust. It was impossible to think that Thomas came from Neverland or that he had a pixie of his own or perhaps it was a sign.

Peter opened the window, a bit of the winter air came inside his room. He looked above him.

"How...is that possible?" Peter asked.

"Think of happy thoughts" Thomas smiled and swooped inside Peter's room. Peter closed the window and both of them were silent. Thomas bit his lips, thinking of what to say next.

"But...pixie dust..."

"I got it when you took my brother away." Thomas was facing the door, away from Peter. He sighed, "Perhaps it was my parents fault for always forgetting about him or mine for not minding him." Thomas looked up and closed his eyes hard so that tears wouldn't fall. "I always thought what if my brother was a better English gentleman or would it've been better if I was the forgotten child." He sighed once again, "I wish I was the one sent away to Neverland and stay a boy...forever"

Meanwhile, in Neverland, winter was getting worse without the boy, Peter Pan. They needed him back. The land was freezing.

And so, Tinkerbell left Neverland to tell Peter.


	6. Five

Five – Decision

Over dinner, Mrs. Darling asked Peter if he was staying for good. All eyes and ears were on him which made him nervous. He still hasn't considered it. This was just an indefinite temporary stay.

"I'm not...sure" Peter replied.

"Please do stay" Michael requested.

Mr. Darling cleared his throat and said, "Well, if you do plan on staying, we ought to fix your papers so you could go to school...assuming that you're okay with the idea...of school"

Peter looked at Mrs. Darling. She smiled at him expectantly.

"I'd be delighted, sir" Peter replied.

The evening passed like usual. The boys played before they went to bed. Wendy studied and went to the guest room afterwards to talk to Peter until it was time for bed.

After all the children were tucked in bed, and the parents had gone to sleep. Someone tapped on the window in the guest room, repeatedly, faster each time and louder.

Peter stood up from his bed and opened the window. Something small and yellow zipped past Peter.

"Tinkerbell?"

Tinkerbell flew around Peter as they were both joyous to see each other.

"How's Neverland?" Peter asked and that's when Tinkerbell told him that Neverland is freezing. Winter has never stopped and he needs to go back.

"I can't go back." Peter said. Tinkerbell got angry. His life was in Neverland. How can he say that he can't go back. "Wendy's here." Tinkerbell didn't understand. Peter has always been hers and Neverland's until Wendy showed up. Peter needed to think of a solution.

Peter stared out the window and remembered. "Come on Tink. There's no time to lose."

They raced to the other side of middle class London, where the Beauforts lived. Every light in the house was off. Thomas could very well be asleep, but if he truly was a child, if he had what it takes to live in Neverland, he would wake up.

Peter flew near Thomas's window, so close that if the glass wasn't there he would probably have rolled inside.

"Peter is that you?" Thomas asked. He opened the curtain and was face to face with Peter.

"Come with me," Peter whispered. "to Neverland."

The three of them flew straight ahead to the second star to the right where Peter spent his entire life without parents and societal rules. A place where he never grew up until he met Wendy.

At the crack of dawn, Peter returned to London alone, without anyone noticing he left. He slipped back to bed and slept.

 _ **Fin**_

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading. Hope I can hear from you, dear reader.


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